Chapter 4
But three weeks later. ...
Cathy lay under her father, knees high and wide, her juicy, hot cunt full of his driving, massive cock. She clutched his sweaty, hard-muscled back and shoulders with digging fingers. She panted with him and fucked with him, letting her hips surge to meet his plunges.
Small puffed grunts were pushed from her as if by the fat, long piston of his cock as it was driven so wonderfully deep onto her belly.
The golden glow of intense pleasure was in them both. She had stopped trying to mask her rapture soon after he had resumed screwing her, about ten days after the first time.
The old bed creaked and groaned, creaked and groaned, in a loud betrayal of what they were doing. Anybody standing outside by the bedroom would have heard ... and known.
Cathy was sure Jerry, the hired hand, knew. She had caught the looks he sent her way. She had heard tail-end jokes and cut-short comments by Fred.
She hated the idea of him telling Jerry what was going on ... joking about it ... about her. Probably telling how she was in bed ... how she sucked.
Only a month ago she had lain awake in her old bedroom, in her old, narrow bed, and listened to this bed creak and groan as her mother took this marvelous cock. She had heard Fred's groans ... his odd cry when he came and had been eaten up with curiosity. A virgin's curiosity.
Now she knew everything ... and her mother was dead. No. She was now her own mother. She was her father's wife.
And she loved it. And hated it!
She stopped thinking. She was going to come! He was drilling his cock so far in now. It had to be over nine inches. And so thick around at the base. That was what hurt a little, even now, after getting it every night for a week and a half now that great, thick last inch or two.
Cathy gritted her teeth with exquisite pleasure and pain. The tide of ecstasy swept her away and the pain was gone. There was only the heavy, sparkling, sweet glow the mind-flooding intensity of orgasm!
Her whole body was alive! Her breasts were larger, firmer, hot! Her belly leaped and flexed as Fred went into her spasming cunt to the limit!
She opened her eyes to the dimness of the faint yellow light cast by the shaded single bedside lamp. Fred seemed a crouching monster as he covered her, as his lean, bony hips rose and fell, arched and drove! He was panting with lust and exertion. His face was twisted in a mindless, grinning leer. He gasped between the massive, awesome surges of his giant cock, and watched her reactions with greedy eyes, and he said, "Yah like it a lot, don't yah, girl? like ole man's big meat."
He saw she was in orgasm. He saw her flushed face, dilated eyes, pebble-hard nipples. He felt the spasming, the jelly-fist loosening and gripping of her deep cunt, knew the frantic taking of her hips, the clawing grip of her fingers. "Love it when your daddy fucks yah!"
He was merciless. For some reason he wasn't coming now as he usually did, with her. He kept driving his cock so incredibly deep! He kept on taunting her. He kept on forcing her to face her pleasure and her status, and her sins.
He stroked faster, and harder! Not letting her orgasm end. Keeping her in a state of intense, chronic ecstasy.
Cathy couldn't evade the terrible reality, the terrible pleasure, the terrible lust in her body. She rose and fell in sweat, overwhelming pleasure, in a pink and purple world of rippling sensations.
Cathy writhed and twisted under him. She squirmed and panted and grunted with the wonderful impacts of his hard belly against her soft, engorged belly. His sack danced in her crotch, his cock was totally buried in her hot, wet, slippery cunt. She felt she was nothing but fiery cunt. There was nothing in the world more important than his massive, pleasure-giving cock.
On and on and on. ...
Until something broke in hr pleasure-drugged mind, and she whimpered, "Daddy, daddy, I love you, love you ... always loved you ... always wanted this ... you in me ... like this ... FUCKING ME!"
He laughed as he panted and worked.
Her eyes flared. "NO! I DIDN'T! I DIDN'T!" She tried to get away and could not. He was finally coming. He squealed and jolted her with frantic, orgasmic, ruthless, pile-driving plunges. The bed shook and rattled.
She could feel the hot jets of his semen inundating her cervix, virtually being squirted directly into her womb.
She had no fears about pregnancy. She had found her mother's supply of birth control pills, and those subtle drugs were in her system now.
What she and her father were doing was awful. To have a baby by him would be an even more terrible crime.
Fred Dietz was insane. Cathy thought she was, too. Because she couldn't stop him from having his way and couldn't stop herself her body from wanting it, too.
He levered himself off her. "Shee-it! That takes it outa a man." He sank heavily to the mattress and closed his eyes.
Cathy got off the bed and went to the bathroom to wash, her hand cupped over her slit, keeping the syrupy stuff from leaking to the rug. Not that it would matter.
As she washed she noted the dirty walls, the grimed tub and bowl. Everything in the house got so dirty so quickly!
Fred didn't give a damn! He only half washed his hands when he came in from the fields for lunch or supper. Most of the dirt was wiped off onto the towels. He refused to take off his frequently muddy boots when he entered. The rugs and linoleum floors were always tracked with scraps of dried mud and dirt.
The old automatic washer in the small utility room was making odd, grinding noises during its cycle, and she thought it was close to quitting on her. One of the heating units on the electric stove was burned out or something; it didn't work.
Cathy threw the damp washcloth into the bathtub and sat on the toilet seat and buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
The house the cooking and cleaning was too much for her to handle. She didn't want to handle it! She was only nineteen and she wanted a life of her own. She wanted dates and school and going places and excitement and ... anything else but this!
A cold, calculating part of her self, in the back of her mind, told her that sex wasn't everything. There were other men boys who could be as good in bed as her father. There were other cocks as big. She was pretty. And now she was experienced in sex. She could make out anywhere, now. All she had to do was dress, pack a bag, and walk.
But she was afraid of the outside world. Afraid of being alone on her own. And she did feel an obligation to her father. If it wasn't for her, her mother would still be alive. She owed him something. But how much? For how long?
Cathy sighed and sniffled and retrieved the washcloth from the tub. She took it and a dirty towel and threw them on the overflowing hamper in the utility room.
She padded, barefoot, naked, across the cool linoleum tile to the back door. She opened the door and enjoyed the cool night breeze on her skin, on her breasts and loins.
She felt delightfully naughty. fingers push deeper. Her breasts began to heat and itch. His thumb, constantly moving in the upper folds of her slit, sent shivers of pleasure coursing through her. She began to breathe through her mouth, and began to squirm restlessly.
"Shit, this is gettin' me interested again. Take a feel." He shifted position to his right side, to give her hand access to his cock.
She obediently groped and found him half-hard. She began playing with him.
Fred said after a minute, "Want you to suck it now."
Cathy was almost breathless from an approaching climax. She said, "I will." Her hips moved sinuously. She closed her eyes.
"Now!"
"Please, just a minute."
"You get to suckin' and I'll keep fingerin'. "
Desperate for release, she made a small whimpering moan, and swiftly moved in the bed, slipped her head and shoulders under the covers and stuffed his cock into her mouth. She sucked passionately. She turned her body so he could reach her humid loins.
His long cock thickened and stiffened as she sucked. She was rewarded as his hand returned to her crotch and resumed the adroit finger-fucking and thumb caress. His bunched fingers weren't long enough to touch bottom, but they opened her up good and kept the mouth of her vagina sparkling. His thumb rotated in a soup of oily secretions, making her gasp around the head of his cock.
She climaxed. A series of rippling shudders quaked her belly. She moaned and sucked in a frenzy of lust. Her tongue lashed the sensitive surfaces of his glans.
The sensations ebbed. But his fingers stayed in her, moving gently as before, tireless.
Almost immediately the sweet glow resumed in her belly, promising another orgasm in a few minutes.
Fred was pushing a lot of cock into her mouth now, as she sucked, pushing her head back, making her gag. She had to pull her mouth away to get her breath.
He threw the covers off her head and shoulders. "That's enough of that. Get your legs open."
Cathy spread. She drew her knees up to her chin as she had been taught. She waited, swallowing in anticipation, eyes closed, as he came over her, as he positioned the big head of his huge cock.
They groaned in unison as he plunged incredibly deep. His bulk was both terrifying and satisfying. She didn't understand how there could be room for it all in her. But it went in and in and in, swiftly, easily, filling her, bulging her belly, causing her to puff air with the force of the invasion. Only the last inch the very thick root of him the last inch that strained with sweet. painful pressure, the very limit of her channel's elasticity only that fearful extreme caused her some pain, at first.
Cathy hugged her knees and took the swift, monstrous plunges. She grunted and gasped and shook as the bed shook and glowed and lost herself in swiftly mounting pleasure. Each incredible smacking impact each total engorgement sent a shock of ecstasy like hot lightning.
She began to howl shamelessly, as the pleasure seemed to overflow her capacity to experience it. She quivered with it, quaked with it, lost all control.
Her mind cracked open and she remembered things repressed, hidden, buried. Seven year old Cathy.
Hearing her mother sobbing, crying, moaning, hearing the familiar bed sounds. Creeping, fearful, tantalized by curiosity, out of her room, seeing the other bedroom door ajar. Seeing her mother with knees drawn up, seeing her father spearing her mother with his giant man thing. Watching, paralyzed, until he stopped and pulled the long thing from her. Feeling, feeling strange. Wide-eyed, trembling with an emotion. Hearing her mother say in a reverent tone, "No man could ever satisfy me after you." And her father replying, "No woman in the world like you, Mary. I love you more than anything in the world. You're the only one."
Cold, incredulous shock. Creeping away, back to her bed. Weeping disconsolately into her pillow.
Cathy was vaguely aware that Fred had finished. She lay sprawled, legs wide, breathing fast, blinking in the darkness, fists clenched at her sides. She felt his semen oozing from her, dripping, wetting the sheet, and didn't care.
The memory of her traumatic childhood experience was once again locked away. She couldn't recall it. She knew she had sort of blanked out. The sheer overwhelming intensity of the sensations! They scared her. Her father's power over her scard her. Was she going to be a slave to that huge cock of his?
Drudge all day and a sex slave at night?
Cathy shivered and chewed her lower lip. She had to get away! She made a sound.
Fred grumbled, "What's the matter with you, girl?"
"Nothing." She cupped herself and left the bed. After a few minutes she returned with a damp washcloth and a towel and wiped and covered the semen-wet spot on the sheet. She knew she had to change the sheet again in the morning and run at least three loads in the washer.